Six and a Half
by Psychedelica
Summary: Castiel. A vending machine. Midnight. And a six-year-old? "Six and a half," the boy would protest. Confusion ensues.


**A/N: Hey guys. This is my first SPN fic, but I think it's alright :) I haven't actually seen EVERY episode of Supernatural yet, but I have them all in my possession, and I estimate I shall have seen them all by the end of the year. Disclaimer: Don't own SPN. Sorry. It belongs to a load of important-sounding people. And Chuck, apparently. But Henry's mine.**

**I don't know when this is set (obviously after S04E01 because Cas is in it) but I know that: (a) Cas is like he was in Season 4, kay? No trench-coat-in-river, no self-proclaimed-deity. (b) Sam is just . . . Sam. Like he was in the olden days. You can either ignore everything that happened to him, or just pretend it never happened in the first place.**

**Anyway, I'm sure you want to get on with the story now . . . this is just a strange little ficlet that popped into my head earlier today. I'm just testing the waters of the Supernatural fandom :D**

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><p>Sam woke with a start. Something was wrong.<p>

Very wrong.

He glanced around the cheap motel room, eyes falling on Dean's sleeping form. So no demons were attacking at least. With a sigh _(he'd never get back to sleep now)_, he sat up in bed and sighed, kicking his legs out from under the covers and onto the carpeted floor.

And shivered.

Arizona was supposed to be hot, wasn't it? Especially in the summer. So why were goosebumps raising on Sam's arms and down his back? And why was he breathing out an icy cloud?

Slipping on his pants, shirt and jacket, he started to slip out of the door, but Dean stirred, sitting up in bed.

"Where you going?" he asked, voice thick from sleep.

Sam hesitated. "I don't know. Something doesn't feel right."

His brother looked at him for one very long moment before nodding. "Wait up, I'm coming." He slid out of bed and swore. "Jesus, it's cold! What, did the sun go out overnight or something?"

Sam smirked. "I hope not, otherwise we're in trouble."

Outside, the air was just as cold, if not colder. The two of them strolled across the balcony and down the stairs, and the chill got worse and worse. After a few minutes, they were simply following the cold, hoping it would lead them to whatever it was giving Sam a bad vibe.

Eventually they found the cause. At first they just heard a quiet muttering – two voices, one male, one higher, possibly a child. Sam frowned. The first voice sounded . . . _familiar,_ somehow.

They rounded a corner silently, and found themselves staring at a man, feeding coins into a vending machine with his free hand, the other arm wrapped around a six-year-old boy who was perched on his hip.

"_Cas?" _said Dean incredulously.

Castiel glanced up, slightly alarmed. The boy he was holding spun his head around too, and Sam realized the source of the coldness.

"Cas, why have you got a kid in your arms?" he asked calmly. Beside him, Dean folded his arms defensively, moving his legs farther apart.

Castiel stared at the pair of them in confusion, as if it were perfectly normal for an angel to be stood by a vending machine at midnight, holding a six-year-old.

"I must care for the child until the demon is ridden of," he said eventually.

"Demon?" asked Sam.

"Yes. Demon."

Castiel turned to the boy. "I have nine dollars and forty-eight cents. What would you like?"

The boy looked at him for a minute and then at the machine, reaching one hand out to point at something.

Castiel squinted at it, reading aloud. "Milky . . . Way?"

The boy nodded violently, sending a shiver down Sam's spine with each bob. Castiel continued feeding the coins into the machine, frowning in concentration as he tried to get the right amount. The candy bar dropped into the hatch, and he bent down to pick it up, handing it to the mystery child.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked.

"Cas, I don't mean to interrupt or anything," said Dean, clearly interrupting. "But let me get this straight . . . there's a demon, and you're looking after a kid until someone gets rid of the demon?"

"Indeed. Henry, would you like a drink?"

The boy – Henry – nodded again, pointing at something in the machine. Sam watched as Castiel went through the coin process again.

"Who's getting rid of the demon?" Sam asked.

"Another hunter," said Castiel vaguely.

"Oh," said Dean. "And why does that make you babysitter-for-the-day?"

The angel glanced up at him. "The demon is possessing Henry's mother. She had locked him in the basement. I took him away from the danger."

Dean smiled slightly. "Wow Cas, you're turning more human every day."

"I am an angel of the Lord," Castiel recited. "My vessel is human but I am not."

"Geez Cas, I was just making a joke!"

"Oh. I do not understand the humor."

Sam noticed what drink the angel was handing the boy, and frowned widely. "Cas, are you sure it's a good idea giving a six-year-old Mountain Dew? That's a lot of sugar for such a little kid."

"I do not see why that would be a problem."

"Well, he's gonna go hyper, Cas," said Dean. "And you're not going to want to deal with a hyper six-year-old."

"Six and a _half_." Henry spoke his first words since Sam and Dean had arrived.

"Sorry kid."

"Should I not give him the candy bar and drink?"

Henry's eyes widened, and the brothers smiled. "Nah," said Dean. "You've bought it now, may as well let him have it. A six-year-old having a tantrum is way worse." He turned towards Sam with this last point.

Castiel handed the boy the snacks, and Henry clutched them to his chest as if he'd never let them go.

"Why's he so cold?" Sam asked suddenly.

"Residue."

"Residue?"

"From the demon. When I found him his lips were blue and all water within a ten-meter radius was frozen."

"Oh. He's okay now though, isn't he?"

"The residue remains. My energy is keeping him warm, but the as a result, the air around him has dropped numerous degrees."

"You're telling me," muttered Dean.

Castiel said nothing, but stared at him blankly.

"How long until the hunter gets rid of the demon?" Sam asked.

"He estimated two, three days."

"So you're just going to carry around a six-year-old on your hip for two or three days?" asked Dean. "Fighting vampires, spirits, shapeshifters . . . with a kid in your arms?"

Castiel tilted his chin upwards, staring directly at him. "Yes."

There was a short silence, before Henry piped up, "Six and a _half._"

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><p><strong>R&amp;R? As I said, never done SPN before, so some commentspraise/advise/constructive criticism would be appreciated c:**


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